


A Helping Hand

by MadameBizarre



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Everyone loves their local maintenance man, F/M, Faraday is a very attractive Synth though he doesn't realize it, John is just there to hold both his partners' asses while getting high off the fog, M/M, Polyamory, Wire Play, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-05-16 09:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameBizarre/pseuds/MadameBizarre
Summary: Far Harbor holds many things the Sole Survivor finds herself helping out with, but assisting a lovesick synth is the most satisfying one at the end of the day.





	1. Enter the, Not So Blushing, couple

Faraday was no stranger to jealousy. He was a third generation synthetic being with an advanced A.I. who could independently speak for himself and was created into a body that replicated a biological human’s down to the last little cell -- minus all the advanced metal that acted like his skeletal frame. For all purposes intended (or not) Faraday felt emotions and the one that had washed over him as he watched the prototype generation-two synth and vault dweller interact in his home was  _ jealousy. _ Ugly, heart stinging, bitter filled,  _ j e a l o u s y. _ Just watching them be all ‘lovey-dovey’ drove the scientist mad with the nasty sensation, lighting his mind up with petty scenarios where he would spit passive words of venom and his clipboard at them; and  _ God  _ did he feel ashamed for it.

It was not that the duo were in an interspecies relationship between an android and a human, but rather how they handled it. He knew that in the commonwealth such a relationship was rare and frowned upon -- he had radioed in on news and had conversations with the outside world enough times to know nothing had changed since he had left. So to see Nick Valentine take the woman’s hand in his, voice his concerns for her, call each other cute pet names, and even smooch her cheek in the public eye of  _ not only  _ Acadia, but most likely Far Harbor as well, was like a slap to his synthetic heart and face --  _ especially  _ since Faraday’s own relationship was similar, yet so different.

Albeit Nick Valentine was a human mind from two hundred years ago, already pre-programmed with at least thirty years of true pre-war human experience, and DiMA was of the same making instead left to grow as a being on his own experiences and emotions -- Faraday was still bitter. Patient as he was, his emotions got the best of him even though he was used to the silent pining for a being who did not seem interested beyond companionship.

Yet, loving DiMA for who he was, and not wanting to put anymore stress on his beat up shoulders, Faraday kept his mouth shut; if only that could be said about his expressive facial features.

* * *

 

  Okay, they were not  _ merely  _ a very public couple it seemed, no, instead they were  _ exhibitionists. _ In Faraday’s own opinion anyways; they had their own mattress on the lowest floor amongst the loud thrum of power generators, which was for the best with how  _ affectionate _ they could be. He caught them actually, without meaning to of course- it had been in the dead of night when he quietly made his way down to the power supply to make sure no wiring had been chewed by rats, or if any of them had run out of electrical juice. The curt little whine had his attention in a snap, afraid of any danger, but he quickly regretted it.

Thankful for the lack of decent lighting, Faraday was hidden in the shadow of a generator, stuck as the scene processed in his mind. Nick Valentine leaning his back against the wall as he sat, and his human partner spread legged on his lap with a raggedy blanket around her bare waist and over his stretched out legs. Her dark skin caught in the light, showing off it’s tanned color, bared down completely; Nick was without his coat, his shirt was unbuttoned by the top three, tie loose around his neck and curled between her fingers, and his slacks were noticeable spread open with his belt limp on the floor. They were both grinning, and he could see the slight movements of her hips against his one good hand down between them; her whine had not been one of pain, but rather  _ pleasure. _

He felt horrible for having caught such an intimate moment, but they really should have known better than risk it. Faraday made his way silently back up to the observatory where DiMA laid in his chair, eyes closed in a ‘meditative state’ while he sorted through his memories. He gave the old synth  a glance, looking up and down his still form while he walked, then entered his observation room to sit. There were dozens of questions rolling around his head, all of which truly wanted to know about the aspects of Nick’s and the woman’s relationship, and that begged him to ask:  _ how? _

Could he perhaps get some advice from her?

That night he did not get sleep, but rather spent time on his terminal, distracting his mind with modifications to the fog condensers. When morning came and he saw the duo come up to speak with them, Faraday felt like he could ask her if they could talk in private. Unfortunately they were on their way out.

“Thanks for the space, but we’re gonna go do a few things for the harbormen. Wanna stay on  good terms with them.”

DiMA’s nod was solemn. “Don’t want to be thrown off the dock, I understand.”

“Yeah, Nick doesn’t exactly  _ float  _ and there ain’t a dry cleaners anymore.” She joked alongside him, sharing a small chuckle; Nick was already by the door, golden eyes shining the shadows and smoke wafting up from his cigarette. Faraday could really use one of those after what he had seen last night.

The prototype must have seen it on his face, because in the next moment he had a pack of them out, giving a slight shake to pop a few out. “Want one?”

With a few curls of his fists Faraday nodded, plucking one out to put in the pocket by his breast. “For later.”

“Wouldn’t wanna light any of those consoles up.” Nick’s humor caused a smile, so similar to DiMA’s. A decade apart, plus who knew how little time spent interacting in the The Institute, and the two seemed to have grown something in similarity. It amused the engineer, piquing his interest further in how many other ways the brothers were alike.

He’d have to ask her another time it seemed - watching as as he was left with DiMA who was settling back into his seat. The creaking of the chair as it moved back into a seating position echoes in the observatory, leaving Faraday to walk back into the power room.

“Dearest Faraday, stay beside me will you? I am...troubled about Nick.”

Stopping with a hand on the doorframe, Faraday looked across the short hall to the old synth. The rare ray of suns shined through the holes atop the dome, basking DiMA in almost a heavenly light if it were not for the blue darkness where his chair was lowered. Silver glittered, shrouded by dust that flew in the light, and DiMA’s grey eyes looked straight into his own.

He smiled. “Of course, tell me what’s up.”

And DiMA seemed to relax in his throne.

* * *

  Thunder struck outside the lighthouse, echoing in the old wooden floors and rotted bricks as lightning flashed brightly more than once in a single go. The blinding light threw her wild shadow across the room and against the opposite wall as in that moment her back arched violently in a perfect U-shape off the bed; the booming cry from above barely masked her own -- a single beg of a name.

“ _ NICK!” _

Connected in front of her shadowy figure was the man in name, Back arched upwards, his hat falling to the floor with her sharp movement; his shirt was unbuttoned completely, his slacks slipped past his hips, and his head was nestled  _ snugly  _ between her thick thighs. Metal talons clenched around her outer thighs leaving red crescents in their wake, and a soft thumb wrapped in synthetic flesh rubbed slow,  _ agonizing _ , circles around her hardened nub. The flustered whir of his internal systems joined with her voice, doing their best to keep Nick Valentine’s body from completely overheating; luckily for them it was a chilly night with heavy rain, good weather to put his metal body to use.

By now he had taken a tight hold on her and pressed his tongue against her core and begun spoiling it rotten with attention. His mouth was filled with saliva, slickening her all around, causing her to glisten when lightning struck once more, blaring the room in it’s crackle. His lips never left from between her folds, rubbing all over her flushed inner-labia and sucking gently with his tongue encircling her hole. Her hips thrashed but never loosened, forcing Nick to keep her still with his upper arms; she cried aloud, chest heaving with sobs as ecstasy ached up her veins with every nasty slurp from her android lover. Her body was alit with sweet desire, truly scaring her into believing she may be overheating, but not stopping her from letting him continue. It was a dizzying rush to her head as she forgot how to breath between the calls of his name and her choked gasps. She could not think, only feel, and watch the bursts of light behind her screwed shut eyes -- white flashing with red and purple closely behind in a show of fireworks caused by the man eating her out. 

“P-PLEASE -- N-NICK!” With no sheets on the mattress to grip one hand found its way into her hair, tangling it between her fingers, and the other pressed down on his head, encouraging him to continue. The only response was the airy whir of the synth’s system, the loud wet smacks of his lips against her pussy, and a low groan from his throat that echoed into her being, causing her to hiccup. His thumb did not spare her either, swiping and rolling frantically at her swollen clit in a fury to bring all the sweet pleasure he could for her.

Their heated frenzy came to an end when wriggling hips stuttered upwards, toes curling into the back of  Nick’s shirt, sobbing out: “ _ VA-A-A-LEN-TINE!”  _ And her muscles clenched. From his ministrations to her sensitive pearl, to the doting swirls of his tongue over every inch between her folds, her core throbbed as it gave out a few curt squirts -- Nick’s thumb stretching her upwards to aid the gushing. He continued to rub her as her orgasm slicked his lips and chin, opening his mouth to taste it better on his tongue.

With her body left in erratic shivers and twitches, Nick gave one last lick up between her wet slit and popped off her clit loudly, reward with a little  _ “Ngghhh” _ in response.

“Damn doll, I think you scared the storm away.”

Face lying limp on her cheek and legs spread and limp, she turned her hazy gaze to watch her lover lick around his lips slowly in a calculated way that he knew would cause her heart to flutter -- a pulse echoing up from between her thighs. He wiped the rest of it off his glistening grey chin with the back of his good hand while affectionately scratching his metal fingers down her belly and over her thighs.

“I fucken love you.” Her voice was a lazy sigh.

He grinned handsomely, synthetic skin scrunching up around his eyes, and lips curling devilishly. “Damn straight.”

In the minutes that followed Nick picked up then placed his hat on the mattresses’ post nearest to him before laying down behind her to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her against his body. Her lower half was bare as her bottom pressed against his crotch, but her shirt had been raised above her breasts -- still hard and puffy. His chin laid on her shoulder, pressing their cheeks together, and he hummed alongside his still whirring components that were cooling down to a more manageable heat to keep her warm; at one point an icon had flashed before his eyes, warning him of overheating, but now there was only her in his sight. It was a blissful moment of spooning, bodies curled into one another like a perfect puzzle piece, leaving no part of them without touching the other’s. A warm cocoon to keep them safe and warm in the desolate lighthouse where dead trapper bodies laid at the bottom of.

She was the one who broke the silence though she was sluggish with sleep. “I know this isn’t exactly ideal afterglow talk, but Faraday seems a bit conflicted with us.”

“God, don’t make me think of those people when I’ve got a hardone still in my pants.”

Snickering she placed her upper hand on his which rested just below her stomach -- her lower arm being used as a pillow. “He’s not good at keeping a poker face, looks like the girls back in my pre-war neighborhood: judgmental and shit.”

Nick was not so sure he knew exactly what she meant -- she had been raised the more unsavory parts of neighborhoods because of her heritage -- but he could assume the general idea: sharp eyed, plump lipped  gals with attitude who would give pre-war Nick a stare down when he didn’t fall for them (which took a lot of will on his part). “Wonder why.” He mused.

“Jealousy obviously -- ain’t getting laid probably.”

“What? With Chase?”

“Nah, with DiMA -- don’t you see how they are together?” Her sharp eyebrows furrowed, looking at him questioningly. “They’re an item.”

“Oh....I guess I didn’t catch it, kinda wanted to just ignore DiMA.”

“Poor guy, he may be a synth but I’m sure third-generation ones are human enough to have desires too. His partner ain’t exactly looking like he can handle it with all those tubes sticking out of him.”

“Why do ya’ care so much for the little nerd? You guys barely talked.”

She shrugged. “Ya’know synths may have been made from The Institute scientists, but a lot of them have features that are recognizable. He looks like someone I’d know in my neck of the woods.”

“Whaddya’ wanna do about it then? Go and ask if he needs couples advice?”

“No, no....Maybe...we’ll see whenever we go back.”

The storm by now had been softened into rain, the kind which sounded like it could break rooftops; in the night spread around them the cry of ghouls and wolves echoed through the radiated fog like a warning. She did not like this sort of horror movie-esque situation, but with Nick holding her close, she could rest a bit easier. A distraction felt in order for that moment though, and a favor had to be returned. So she lifted her upper hand from his and bent it back to curl her fingers over his beaten cheek -- synthetic skin like worn leather under her touch. Her hips began to gyrate, pressing down between his slender, solid thighs with enough force that she knew he could feel and without a doubt understand where she was taking them. 

His hand moved to her hips, helping to maneuver them in just the right way -- setting memories aflame in his mind of pre-war sensations, like a ghost sensation where something once was. He let a heavy breath splay over her collar as they smashed their bodies together in what could be described as a small dance; a leg draped over hers, trapping the human under his broad metal body in safe hold. Once more the heat between them spiked, cheeks flushing red with blood, sweat glistening over her temples and forehead, his body once again making a erratic hum and a few pinging like noises. His lips kissed her neck up and down, eliciting small grunts and whines from her throat to join her  shallow breathing. 

He almost made it with a kiss to her parted lips (gently quivering with each shaky breath), but her fingers began their work, slipping into the tear between his temple and ear. Slender fingers caught between the loose wiring, curled limping in a row, each dangling over a colorful wire dangerously. He knew he was fucked in that instant, and she was smug when he hissed against her ear. 

_ “Fuck.” _

Simple, but with so much emotion behind it, all induced by her middle finger pressing forward, bending his red wire. Her forefinger joined in, taking a blue one with it, causing his body to jerk against her back as if he had been struck from behind. She played him like a piano, each tug, pull, and swirl of his thin coils evoking a new sound from his throat and lips -- driving him to rut against her round, plush ass; she was no skinny woman, genetics and home-cooked meals had bestowed her with a curvy, plump, body that happily bent to his fingers (metal or not).

He rasped against her ear, nose pressing upon her temple. “H-H-Harder love...give ‘ol N-Nick some more... _ sugar _ .”

It was obvious he was lost on cloud nine, eyes shut tight enough to cause the crinkle of age to appear around his eyes, and his strained grin keeping him from all but crying out like she once was. She pinched a wire between the webbing of her fore and middle finger and began to stroke it slowly, savoring the choked moan that escaped his clenched teeth -- sounding like an animal in heat.

“Whaddya’ say Valentine?”

And he lurched forward forward,body covering and pressing over her side. “ _ Damn do I. Love. You.” _

When her fingers all hooked onto a wire, he made a small sound, and when she gave them all a sharp  _ tug,  _ he cried out at last. “ _ Guh --  _ God. DAMN!  _ Marisol… _ ”

His body curled around her like a tight ribbon, face hiding between her shoulder and neck; his voice seemed to crack, becoming like static for a moment at the end of his cry, matching the rest of the noises his synthetic body made as his orgasm crashed down into him. A fan kicking speed, the small clang of metal against metal, and finally a single note of buzzing (in the back of both their skulls) before it all eased into a cooled down state. It was a robotic symphony of love to her ears.

Darkness surrounded Nick’s eyes from his sensory overload, wave after wave of hot whiteness sending his internal computers into a flurry of protocols that held him hostage with no command over his twitching and shivering synthetic body; panic peaked inside him, ecstasy drowned it, and finally euphoria washed over them both, leaving Nick to gasp when he was back in control of every system in him.

Chest heaving with unsteady breaths, he became aware that his partner was laughing merrily, and he chuckled alongside her. “You’ve got an odd sense of humor, Mara.”

The woman squealed. “Jeeze Nick, you already buttered me up enough, knock it off with those pet names.” She hid her face between her elbow as he pushed his head forward and littled the shell of her ear and the nape of her neck with kisses and smiles.

“I know my fair share of Spanish words to keep you on your toes,  _ Mara _ ”

And she wiggled, overcome with love that it made her mad in the head; they somehow tightened their embrace further, basking in the afterglow as the stars lit up the night sky beyond the missing patches of brick in their temporary residence. Yet even after their romp in a bed that was not theirs, both of them could agree on one thing.”

“Nicky, I miss Johnny.”

“Me too doll, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I published this story in the past with this first chapter being two separate ones, but took it down because I realized I had little to no idea where I was going with it, even though I liked what I had so far -- especially the Nora/Nick scenes. And though I had a second chapter in the works, I began a new story for Faraday I was going to make a relatively short one-shot, but now I believe I can combine all this into one, and I cut a chunk out of the first paragraph to fit better. BE WARY, next chapter may seem a little out of place, but they all connected.
> 
> Some notes:  
> \-- when I first saw Faraday I didn't think he was attractive, though I love his voice (Bless Mr. Riegel who voiced practically all of New Vegas; Go watch Critical Role too!). But after like half a year and positive feedback from my RP Blog, I realize Faraday is very handsome and Im love him; he looks very Hispanic/Latinx to me (perhaps with some Asian blood too), but that could also just be me projecting lmao.
> 
> \-- you honestly can't have that many people in one planetarium and NOT be able to hear them all going at it.
> 
> \-- Yeah, I think a lot of the Harbor folk wouldn't mind going a round with Faraday. They admire him probably for the condensers, why not think him hot?
> 
> \-- I have little to no clue how DiMa and Faraday are really gonna do this, but I'll think on it.
> 
> Uhhhh, don't expect fast updates, which I really am sorry for


	2. Good Looks

Never had Faraday gone and bragged about his looks, if anything he kept to avoiding anyone who tried to eye him too hard. The fall of eyes trying to look him up and down, the gentle turn of a head as they tried to see him in a different angle, but especially the slightest indication to touch his face, he pushed away with fierceness. Compared to the others, he was certain about not being what The Institute usually had in mind when creating Synthetics; every little centimeter between his eyes, from the incline of his nostril, every single number was delicately added up, processed by a computer, and stood within parameters set forth by ingenius scientists. Women were lithe and curvy, with bright eyes that sparkled even under the fog of Far Harbor. Supple and perfect for holding, ogling, having, they were the wasteland's Aphrodites. The men were tall and lean, with hard jaws unless requested personally otherwise from an outside voice, but that too was perfectly calculated. With skin soft, smooth, perfectly paired with elegant movements that women all over would love. Faraday found he could only indetify one or two of those qualities in himself: the elegant movements, and the hard jawline.

He was not terribly tall, nor was he very lean, his build was thick with broad shoulders and square fingers that did not look like they could do half the work they did; and don’t even get him started on his ears. The anxiety was no help as well, always getting him in trouble back in the labs, even now keeping him from enjoying a conversation for long without fearing he was being a terrible host. He wasn’t special, he wasn’t what the parameters called for, and to be quite honest, he was happy with that. The less eyes the less likely The Institute would see him. The less attractive, better the treatment in his opinion: not given favors or special opportunities a normal biological would rarely get. Who needed looks when you had knowledge, right?

The roaming eyes went unnoticed in the end. Blinded with the acceptance that he was average even for a human, the scorching gazes on him were met with no cooling acknowledgement. 

“Faraday the light in my corner broke, could you fix it?” It was the third time that month.

“Mine too!”  That was  _ not  _ broken five minutes ago.

Long ago Victoria had it figured out (what  _ ‘it’  _ was , Jules did not, nor ever know, left completely confused as to why she had the thoughts). The higher the broken bulb or pipe, the more a shirt hitched up over his stomach; the lower a power generator’s gnawed ( _ pulled _ ) wire was, the more prominent his hips would rise. The offer of help was always accepted when she asked, giving her all the time she desired to gaze upon him when his defenses were down -- busy at work on additional memory installations for DiMA or upgrades to the fog condensers. Faraday was cute, with sharp eyes that shined in the dim light, and a bashful smile he could never hide.

“He only has eyes for DiMA.”

“He  _ has  _ to be aware of how hot he is.”

Cog sweared his eyes would one day fall out from the sheer amount of times he rolled them. The dumb kid, lovesick with a worn and torn synth, unaware that he had admirers all over the place. He had his own fair share of stolen glances (synthetic or not), but it just went to show that the ‘cool guy’ act always was a winner -- especially when it was done so naively. Let the kid be, it wasn’t like it mattered anyways. Cog wasn’t going to be bitter, just exasperated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know, but its a small chunk from what was gonna be the original whole. Wanted to pop in to say Im still working on this.


End file.
